Sonata
by achaean
Summary: AU Returning for his 6th year, Harry's slipping grasp on the Light drives him to seek companionship with the Dark. SLASH, OCs, self injury, and a voice only Harry can hear. Part one of the Switchblade Symphony.
1. I'm Not Okay

Author Diddy: Okies, it's been a while since this piece was updated, much less posted, but since I'm now going through and rewriting it so the plotholes don't eat me I decided to repost it. Written under the alias Kalinx previously, I present to you the rewritten Switchblade Symphony.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter it would not be a childrens book...much love and adoration to JK, the mother of this masterpiece.

Warning: The following fanfic will contain references to death, suicide, self-mutalation, sex (SLASH, boy on boy action), rape, confusing ideas, and language. If I've forgotten anything, please let me know...

_the voice_

Switchblade Symphony

Prologue

I'm Not Okay

Everything was dark. Nothing mattered anymore. Even the Dursley's had recognized the utter apathy in me at the platform, which was why I was alone. I had been sent to my room as soon as my feet had crossed the threshold. A strangled laugh escapes through the tears that had been falling since The Ministry mistake. The bloody muggles were pushing aside their hatred of a freak like me for once, I must look a right mess.

_Aw buck up boyo, it ain't that bad, the pain will dull in time. 'Sides, don't you want t' live so you can get revenge? You know?_

_  
_Rough blanket against my cheeks as I shake me head at the imagined voice in my head. Revenge is for the Dark, Dumbledore and the Order will avenge Siri for me in the end.

_Come on ducky, don't you wanna take matters into your own hands? Make your own decisions for once? Do you really believe that old coot is going to give you what you want if he doesn't see himself gaining from it? Live your own life boyo._

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Fingers jerk the weeds from the giving earth the hot sunlight battering my bare back. The imagined voice hadn't come back since my first night here. I guess I was glad it hadn't. Too many questions had been brought into the forefront of my mind because of it. Damned Dursley's had only given me a respite for that night before renewing their crusade to kill my spirit. Not like I had much of one left to kill. Siri stole it when he fell through the Veil.

Sharp sting snapping me out of my fog I stare at the line of blood welling up on my palm. In my absentmindedness I had cut myself on a blade of grass - but, now that the initial pain had passed it felt kind of good.

Gaze landing on the pair of scissors I have been using to prune Petunia's flowers I feel my lips curve into a smile as the open blade come to rest on my wrist. Deft slash of the hand gripping the scissors a peace settling over me for the first time in weeks.

Oh.

Feeling was nice.

Now what had that voice said? Right, live your own life boyo. If I'd been following its advice Siri might not have died. Dumbledore was the one who had kept important information from me, like the Prophecy, maybe if I stopped allowing him to chose my direction I wouldn't lose anyone else?

Come to think of it, why did I really hate Draco? Was it only because of Ron and Dumbledore's prejudices? Could he really be 'that' bad once you got past the mask of snot he wore? Was it a mask? Like my Boy-Who-Lived mask? Could someone be given permission to see beyond it?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The bath water was turning a nice pink shade already, all thoughts and troubles draining through it. Damp fingers pinched the stolen shaving blade at the edge. Eyes fluttering shut I slide below the water's surface, fingers releasing the blade. I was in my quiet place.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Blow out the candles I had filched from the grocery yesterday. Happy birthday boyo, the voice whispers. Laugh croaking into the still air I hurl the dead candles at the wall. Damn Dumbledore, making me remain here rather than allowing me to go to the Burrow for the weekend. It was my birthday dammit! Didn't that give the famous Harry Potter some sort of leeway?

I wish I had a family to love me, any type of family will do.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was the darkest time of night. The time when all is quiet and nothing but the light of the stars and the moon guide the errant traveler. Here on this side of the world millions were dreaming of happy moments that had passed and those that had yet to become reality. Children slept nestled beneath the warmth and care of family visions of unicorns and magic dancing behind their eyelids, the movement of their eyes proof of deep sleep. Teenagers dreamt of idols and fame, the riches of the 'American Dream' within reach, sorrow and suffering put aside briefly. Parents lay in the arms of each other, the surety of their children's safety allowing them to drop the reins of control and protection. Lovers drew fingers through sleeping partner's hair as it lay, fanned out across pillows and sheets. Some even clung together as they made love, their soft cries of joy dropping into the serenity of the night. Overhead, stars began to fade as the darkest moment of night passed and the barest of the sun's light crept into the sky.

Blood was flowing somewhere in the dying night. Intricate lines pressed into pale flesh with the power of a simple straight razor. Harsh, silent sobs shake bony shoulders as crimson life runs together in steady lines. Feet are glued under narrow hips, unwashed hair hanging in clumps around what could be a finely boned face. Tears burned in bloodshot eyes filled with pain. Clutched between thumb and forefinger the villainous razor glints in the blue glow of the stereo.

Dropping the razor to the beige carpet he clings to his engraved wrist and collapses into a fetal position on his floor among the piles of indiscriminately mingled clothing, dog-eared books, and haphazardly stacked rolls of parchment and loose leaf sheets of doodled on paper. Bloodied arm stretching over his head he snags a worn, slightly threadbare plaid, flannel blanket and hauls in over his body.

"I don't want to dream."


	2. Gets Us Nowhere

Author Diddy: Um, I guess the biggest change with the first three chapters - excluding the newly written prologue which is already up - is the change in POV.

Disclaimer: I own only bits and pieces of the idea, nothing more.

Warning: The following fanfic will contain references to death, suicide, self-mutalation, sex (SLASH, boy on boy action), rape, confusing ideas, and language. If I've forgotten anything, please let me know...

_the voice_

Switchblade Symphony

One

Gets us nowhere

Emerald eyes flashing behind twin circles of glass with repressed anger, I dart expertly through the crowds at the station. Of course They had to be late. They did that on purpose - wanted me to miss the train and be 'stuck' with Them for the year so They could torment me more. Knuckles faintly white from my grip on the trolley handlebar I growl softly. They get some perverse joy out of making me suffer I just know it. Of telling me how much of a freak of nature I am, how much I owe Them, blah blah blah. Shout an 'excuse me' over my shoulder at the young woman whose shoulder I just clipped with my own I round the platform.

Shooting a quick glance at the assortment of muggles on the platforms nine and ten I grin. Chin going down I shove the trolley forward, directly at the large brick pillar between the platforms. A quick rush of disorienting nothingness and platform 9 3/4 'materializes' to catch my headlong dash. Tossing my head I relax the white knuckled grip on the handlebar upon seeing the familiar red train still waiting.

Students were still milling around the platform as I guide the trolley to the baggage compartments, relinquishing it to those in charge of loading the train. Grabbing the simple black messenger bag from atop my Hogwarts trunk I weave through the chattering students. Now to find Ron and 'Mione, then pick a place to spend the trip. Gaze drifting over the shoulders and faces of my fellow year-mates I quirk a brow as I spot Malfoy. The ferret grew again, put him at six foot now, and I do believe he has let his hair grow since last year.

Almost seeming to sense the eyes on his back the self proclaimed prince of Slytherin turns slowly. He has let his hair grow; it didn't reach his shoulder blades last year. White blond hair trailing elegantly over his right shoulder the Slytherin returns my look with a chilly sneer. Frowning, bloody poof, I look away from the arrogant young man and continue the quest to find my fellow Gryffindors.

"Lose the other two thirds of your golden trio Potter?" a frosty voice purrs.

A long suffering sigh whispering from between my lips I turn and meet silver eyes. "Bugger off Malfoy."

Brow arching the blond tilts his head to the side, a quizzical light in his eyes. "Have you finally grown Potter? You seem a bit taller then you were, more gangly as well."

"What do you care Malfoy? Or maybe you're afraid you might be slowly shrinking? That it?"

Lips curling back into his customary sneer Draco snorts, "Sure, keep imagining things Potter." Turning in a whirl of deep green robes he glides back towards his goonies, Crabbe and Goyle, and the smattering of other Slytherin.

Why did he come over here if all he was going to do was insult me without an audience? He usually does these sorts of things where people can see his dubious brilliance, not where the only person to hear his words is the one they're directed at. Odd, has the ferret grown up over the summer?

Squawk as a pair of arms wrap around my stomach, dragging me from my musings, and a warm body plows into my back I peer over my shoulder at the flock of redheads, a bushy haired figure latched onto me. Releasing him from her greeting Hermione purses her lips, "Harry you've grown!" Fluttering through the mob of her children, Mrs. Weasley beams up at my face holding her arms open in mute demand. Succumbing to the impending hug I can't help but chuckle as her head ducks under my chin.

"Guess I have 'Mione. Hullo Mrs. Weasley."

Moving out to arms length Molly frowns at me. "Harry, what have you been eating?"

Cheeks flushing a bit I scuff a shoe against the platform and make a face. "Not much of anything, I s'pose I look a bit thin?"

"A bit! If you haven't filled out by the time you get off that train at the beginning of summer you are coming to the burrow where I can feed you properly."

"Aw Mrs. Weasley, you don't have to."

Leveling my protests with a fiercely protective glare she humphs and shoos those of her brood needing to board the train. "Well enough Harry, I let it go for now only because you children need to get on that train. Off with you!"

Eyes twinkling the golden trio hurry towards the Express amid the final bustle of last minute students boarding.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Chin perched in my palm I stare out at the passing countryside as Ron and 'Mione chatter over their summers. No one cares to ask me about mine. Figure all I'll do is whine about how much I hate the Dursleys. And I do, but this summer was more than simple hate - it was pure loathing. The fact that they've only dampened their treatment towards me, thanks to the threats at the platform, may have helped if only Siri - he hadn't died. Gods, I miss him, he was supposed to be there, supposed to convince Dumbledore to let me move out of the Dursley's and live with him, he was supposed to - Choking I shake my head, green gaze darting over at my friends to see if the sound caught their attention. Mouth twitching I snort, no such luck, they were still wholly involved in each other. Fingers combing through the mop of blackness I call hair I sigh and climb to my feet. Tuck my bag into a small corner I scoot past the lovebirds, a glimmer of anger tightening the corners of my eyes.

Of course they don't notice me, they only notice me when it fancies them. Although, perhaps I'm being a bit brutal, after all I did refuse to answer any owls this past summer. Wasn't feeling up to answering their repetitive pitying letters - oh Harry you must feel awful, Harry if you need anything just owl, my poor boy - no thank you. It was hard enough to get passed his death without their flood of remorse. Brow wrinkling I tilt my head to the side, effectively popping my neck with a flurry of loud snaps. Feet guiding me in an aimless manner I drift in and out of my thoughts.

I wonder, might Malfoy be willing to put aside his hatred of me and mine long enough for a calm chat? He seems to be quite the conversationalist when not purring insults at you. Plus, he seemed a bit different when he came over without his goons to insult me - almost as if the insults were a required motion to go through. Plans set I halt and glance around at my location. Another old world hall in the train, a series of closed compartments and the hum of voices mingling with the low clatter of the wheels on the tracks. Now to find the little ferret and catch him without his mass of worshipping adorers, easier said than done. Then maybe, just maybe we can have a civil conversation to waste the time away.

"Lost again Potter?"

Right on time ferret, er Malfoy. Civil conversation, civil. "Not at all Malfoy, bored rather."

"The lovebirds ignoring poor little golden boy?" he sneers, lounging back against a window in the hall. Snorting in agreement I settle back against the wall behind me. Silver eyes widening slightly as I look comfortably at my nemesis Draco waves a fine boned hand in the air. "Let me guess, you decided to head out for a breather?"

"In a manner of speaking." Let him think on that one, I'm not going to simply spout out that I was hoping to find him. Have to put my Slytherin cunning to use after all.

"Oh?"

Nodding I lift a hand to my glasses rearranging them minutely, "I wanted some time to think away from their constant murmurs of 'how wonderful'."

Mouth thinning in thought Malfoy inquires, "So you wander the train without seeming to see anything for twenty minutes then pause and settle down in the hall when I approach you? Why?"

He's been watching me as I wondered the train? "Why what Malfoy? The wandering or the willingness to talk with you without childish name calling?"

Lips curling into the barest of smiles Malfoy nods, "Both, after all we are known to be two people who for some reason or another have never gotten along."

Sigh whistling between my teeth I shrug and turn to peek into a compartment. Finding no students in residence I slide the door open and motion at the benches, "You mind if we move to a slightly more private area to chat? As much as I love everyone knowing all there is to know about the boy-who-lived I'd rather hold this conversation away from spying gossips."

Chuckling softly the Slytherin pushes off the window and strides into the compartment, flopping gracefully onto a cushioned bench, ankles crossed. Shoulders a tad tense, I was agreeing to being shut up in a room with the ferret, I slide the door closed and sink onto the other bench. Head resting against the back of the bench I draw in a long breath, willing my pounding heart to slow. Lacing his fingers together Draco sits calmly, years of Malfoy teaching lending him the patience to wait: for me to begin.

Letting out the breath I lift my head and gaze at the wall above Malfoy's head. "I suppose the fact that I was buried in my own thoughts explains why I was wandering aimlessly without seeing what was happening around me. After last year I've had a lot to think about, and yes, I have thought about the rivalry we are famous for. Having watched you with your Slytherins I discovered that you are a rather eloquent conversationalist and I guess that was why I settled down when you came up."

"My ability to hold a conversation made you hold down any retorts?"

Making a face I blink and glance at the pair of silver eyes watching me suspiciously. "Yeah, I guess." It sounds so dumb when I admit it, it really does. Closing my eyes tiredly I whisper, "I'm tired of the pity and the forced cheerfulness they give me, so afraid that if they raise their voices I'll break. Just because S - he's dead doesn't mean I'm going to break. Gods, all they do is treat me like some sort of idol that's to be fawned over. The great Harry Potter, savior to the Wizarding world. Bloody gits."

Peer at Draco through the barest slit of space I watch as he reaches a hand out towards me jerking it back to his chest as though he's been burned. I know I sounded different, less like a brash Gryffindor, older. "Are you feeling alright Potter?" There was concern in his question, concern that made the Slytherin narrow his eyes. Shaking his head he mutters to himself. Wonder what he was thinking before the head shake.

Wry humor on my lips I open my eyes fully as Malfoy continues muttering to himself. "Yes and no. Somewhere over the course of the summer I came to realize that our rivalry was rather petty. It's got no point and last year it was more a habit that kept it going than anything I might have felt towards you."

"Petty? Yes, it is I suppose."

"Shall we try again Malfoy?" Curiosity lighting the liquid silver gaze I allow myself a cheeky grin and hold out a hand. "The name's Harry Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Of course it is I'm Draco Malfoy."

Grinning broadly the two of us flinch as Ron's voice calls out my name beside our confiscated compartment. Grin dying in a flash I rise to my feet and muss my hair with a hand, "Guess that's my cue to reappear." Flicking my gaze at the still slightly smiling Malfoy I flash another smile, "Smiling suits you Ma - Draco, try it more often." Robes swishing around my lanky form I tug open the door and stride out after the redhead's retreating figure.


	3. On the Outside

Author Diddy: I like pie...

Disclaimer: (dis-cla'mer) _n._ A repudiation or denial of responsibility, connection, or claim.

Warning: The following fanfic will contain references to death, suicide, self-mutalation, sex (SLASH, boy on boy action), rape, confusing ideas, and language. If I've forgotten anything, please let me know...

_the voice_

Switchblade Symphony

Two

On the outside

Emerald eyes were once again vacantly staring out a window, this time that of the thestral drawn carriages. Wheels jolting over a particularly large dip in the path I grunt and blink. Chin shifting towards the forms of my fellow passengers I frown. Not only were they so into each other that they ignored me, but now they're ignoring poor Neville. He looks slightly sick to his stomach - hope their snog fest doesn't ruin his appetite. Leaning forward I cough and smile, "How was your summer Neville?"

Tongue flicking out to wet his lips the slightly chubby Gryffindor scratches at his ear. "Good, my granma took me on a tour of some of Britain's famous Wizarding sites. It was real neat, we got to see all sorts of old castles and even some gardens full of amazing plants." Eyes gaining a far away look he prattles on, giving me a play-by-play of his trip. Cheeks coloring with embarrassment he concludes his tale and looks bashfully at me. "What about you?"

Breaking apart with a squawk, Ron and 'Mione give Neville a pair of nasty looks. Mouth turning down I ignore them and shrug, "Same as it always is, dull as Snape's class." Laugh sputtering out of his throat the shy Gryffindor recovers from the glares of the snogging duo. Carriage coasting to a smooth halt I force the smile on my face to stay, the corners of my lips struggling to drag it off. "But enough of my whining, let's get to the Great Hall so we can be sure to grab seats where we can watch the First years."

"Righto mate," Ron seconds, a closed look of cheerfulness on his face. Frown winning over my forced smile I lower my head as they trudge up the final stretch. Great doors standing wide open before them I lift my head briefly gazing up at the imposing structure of Hogwarts with a measure of comfort seeping into my tense muscles. Home.

Head turning to the side I make a gagging face and jerk my chin at Ron and 'Mione when I spot Draco looking my direction. A twinkle in his silver gaze the Slytherin covers his mouth with a hand and tries to give me a sneer. Looks more like he's constipated. Snorting I break away from the others drifting slightly towards Malfoy. Mimicking my move the Slytherin comes within hearing range with a few steps.

"I will admit that it's good to be back, no matter how much I moan and groan about this place," his cultured voice mutters.

"What? A Malfoy who misses Hogwarts? Unthinkable!"

Attempted sneer crumbling into a lopsided grin he swings a fist at my shoulder playfully. "Shut up Potter, a one man wonder like yourself has no right to question a pureblood like myself."

Laughter in my eyes I bend in a sloppy bow, "Yes Master Malfoy, never question you will I, too great for me you are."

"Potter, stop trying to make me laugh."

Innocence washing across my face at the accusation I hold my hands out and stutter, "You give a poor wonder too much credit oh great and mighty one, I could never succeed where most purebloods have failed."

"Bloody right you cannot."

Mouth twitching into a smirk, bet I can make him, I leap a few steps in front of Draco and drop to my knees, hands to the ground. "Oh mighty one, bestow upon one such as me your wondrous secrets."

Throwing his head back, blond hair rippling, Draco bursts into laughter. Behind black frames my own eyes echo his laughter, peace whirling within my soul. Darting to my feet I offer an arm to the still chuckling Malfoy. Open mouthed students frozen around them Draco bows in acknowledgement and links his arm with me, his one time enemy now cautious friend. "You must promise not to speak of any of the wondrous secrets I gift you with young scarhead, for to do so would negate the power of such things." Snickering we stride through a rapidly parting ocean of shocked students and faculty.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Did you hear? Malfoy and Harry are on speaking terms."

"Sh, that's nothing, I saw them outside acting like the best of friends."

"No way, Harry's talking to a Slytherin?"

"Isn't it amazing how quickly gossip can travel?" I murmur, chin propped in my palm. "Seems everyone's interested in my life."

Looking affronted 'Mione leans forward and meets my eyes, "Really Harry, do think about the reasoning behind the 'gossip'. You and that prat have been the ideal show of enemies since first year but suddenly you're all friendly. People are going to talk."

"Why should it matter if Draco and I have decided to reconcile our long standing hatred for a more beneficial friendship?"

Jaw dropping Ron hisses, "He's a wannabe Death Eater Harry, in line to be a servant for You-know-who."

"Please," a voice drawls, "Had I wanted to kill Harry I could have done it years ago and spent my time here in relative peace."

Eyes flashing impishly I tilt my head up peering through a fringe of bangs at the blond standing just behind me. "Relative peace?"

"Relative without your yammering and hero worshippers, after all some of the chaos would still exist without you there to create it."

Stalking up between the House tables a disgruntled looking Professor of Potions points in the direction of the Slytherin table. "If you would be so kind as to take your seat Mr. Malfoy we may begin the sorting."

Winking at me Draco nods, "Yes Professor, see you later wonder boy."

Twitching I snarl at the nickname, "I am not a wonder boy."

"Harry -"

Hand lifting to wave at 'Mione I turn as the Great Hall's doors are opened and Professor McGonagall leads the train of awestricken First years into the Great Hall. Did we look that terrified? I know I probably did, but Malfoy - humph, he was probably too busy gloating to his goonies over the Malfoy name to be impressed by the Hall. Mer, I should ask him next time I have the time, who knows, maybe even a stuck up Malfoy pureblood got something of a shock when he first entered Hogwarts.

Lining the First years with a simple wave of her wand Professor McGonagall then turns and grabs the stool and sorting hat. Hat perching easily on the stool it waits for her to step back before beginning its song.

_'In Times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such good friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We shall teach just those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pureblood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the Houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_for several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I will sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I will go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble form within_

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_Let the Sorting now begin.'_

Nodding in agreement McGonagall unrolls the parchment with the list of First years on it and begins calling them up.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Throat tightening painfully I manage a slight smile as yet another newly sorted Gryffindor realizes that they are in the same House as the Boy Who bloody Lived. Dear gods, if one more of them comes up to me and says 'Harry Potter, you're Harry Potter? You're the Boy Who Lived? Can I have your autograph' I'm going to explode. And right on cue, here comes another one. Why couldn't I have given in and let the hat put me in Slytherin? At least then I wouldn't be forced to seem charitable to these annoying gits.

_If you don't want t' listen t' them just get up an' leaveducky. What 'ave I told you 'bout living your own life?_

Letting out an annoyed sigh I rise from the bench and nod to my fellow Gryffindors before turning heel and leaving the Hall. Robes billowing out behind me in a Snape like manner I stride angrily through the halls with no particular direction in mind. "Bloody gits, can't they leave me alone? Or see past the whole stupid boy who lived crap? Why do I of all people get saddled with this 'fame'?" Heart aching I halt, dropping my forehead to the wall before me. "Ah Siri I wish you were here still, you'd talk to me and help me figure out how to deal with this onslaught."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Watch silently as thedark hairedGryffindor sweeps from the Hall I gnaw on my lip in a moment of consideration. We were newly reconciled true, but was that all I needed to leave the Hall and follow him? He was so much more then the blustering boy he had been these past five years. Silver ringing against the china I move to my feet mind made up. Ignore the odd looks my fellow Slytherin were giving me I exit in much the same manner as Potter had moments earlier.

Tuck my loose hair behind an ear as I trail along behind the Gryffindor. If Father could see me now. Voice filling the hall with soft mutterings I watch as Potter stops and leans against a wall for support. Coming up behind him I stretch a hesitant hand out to brush his shoulder, "Harry, can I - would you like to talk to me? I know we haven't had this truce for long but I hate to see you -" Unsure of where to go from there I flush as he glances over his shoulder at me. "Oh Salazar, Harry you look like they're slowly taking away what makes you the annoying golden Gryffindor."

Eyes going wide as the supposed savior of the Wizarding world sinks into a limp pile on the floor, hands reaching up to hide his face, I stand frozen. "I'm so worthless! I can't do anything to stop this madness. I want to be a normal boy but how can I when every turn I make either throws me into Voldemort -" flinch "or into some other unspeakable peril? I'm bloody tired of being their savior!"

Those green eyes were staring up at me, too many emotions twisting and burning in them to be described. Ebony hair trailed haphazardly into his left eye as a single tear slides from his right Harry curls his shoulders forward, head falling to his chest, and whispers, "You must think I'm quite the sod hey Malfoy? Here I sit whining about having the awe and dubious worship of most of the Wizarding world. Quite the wonder boy now, if Voldemort could only see me now he'd probably laugh himself into next week."

Crouching in front of the mess of limbs that was Harry I reach a hand out to him; fingers running lightly down his tear-dampened cheek. "I don't think any such thing. Harry, I - I have no real choice in my path either if I want to keep the Malfoy name and the power, wealth, and prestige that goes with it. I trust that Weasel - er Weasley and Grainger tell you that you're over reacting when and if you voice these thoughts yes?" Hair bobbing in what could be qualified as a nod the Gryffindor remains huddled in on himself. Dropping forward to my knees I do the first thing that comes to my mind and shift closer to the decidedly morose Gryffindor curling my arms around him.

"Sh Wonder Boy, I don't care who you are on the outside, it's who you are beneath all the trappings of Boy Who Refuses To Die that made me offer my hand to you on the train earlier. I will admit that when I first met you it was your fame that I was after, but I guess I've thought a considerable bit about our petty rivalry this past summer, same as you I imagine."

Laugh thick with the tears he was pretending not to cry Harry whispers, "Some Slytherin you are prat."

Clutch at the back of his robes as he snakes thin arms about my chest. He really was different then before. "Shut up scarhead."


	4. Inside my World

Author Diddy: Okies, here's chapter three - most of the beginning will be pretty easy to rewrite, the main thing is connecting the plotholes and the initial three chapter's shift in POV. So now I'm gonna go to go on down to Clairemont for Kim Harrison's book signing, so chappie four's revision will wait until I get back.

Disclaimer: In 20 minutes my kitchen's been over run with ants...die fuckers!

Warning: The following fanfic will contain references to death, suicide, self-mutalation, sex (SLASH, boy on boy action), rape, confusing ideas, and language. If I've forgotten anything, please let me know...

_the voice_

Switchblade Symphony

Three

Inside my World

I'd actually enjoyed raving in front of Malfoy - okay, maybe not enjoyed it but I hadn't felt nearly as guilty about doing it as I did when I broke in front of Ron and 'Mione. They think I should be this amazing person, strong, brave, and infallible to the troubles of normal adolescence. Feh! If that was true then I wouldn't have allowed either of their deaths affect me, when the fact of the matter was they still haunted my nights. Knowing that if I hadn't been so much of a bloody Gryffindor and offered to share the Triwizard cup to Cedric he would still be alive. If only I hadn't let -

Rubbing at my scar I stare darkly out at the land surrounding Hogwarts. It was peaceful and beautiful outside, yet inside I was a twisted mess. A slim, familiar blade is being held captive between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand. Gaze drowning in the moonlight outside I slide the glimmering blade from wrist to elbow, a trail of red following its path. The pain helped, it showed me I could still feel, and that I was still human even after all those 'worshippers'.

Poor lonely ducky. I'd hold you tight and kiss it all better if I could.

Malfoy might understand this as well, at the least he probably wouldn't fly off the handle like Ron or 'Mione. I mean, for all that he has a family they aren't really the loving family unit that Ron and 'Mione have. Fingers dropping the blade back into its home in a slim pouch located in the lining of my trunk I dig out my father's invisibility cloak. Swinging it around my shoulders I tug the bed curtains down and knots them shut. That will stall them for a little while before they head out to find me. Socked feet passing soundlessly over the stone floor I ease out of the common room, managing to shut the Fat Lady without waking her. Letting my thoughts overrun my mind I shuffle through the halls much like one of the resident ghosts.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It wasn't until they were sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast that Ron and 'Mione noticed that Harry was nowhere to be found. Sharing a look the two apply themselves to their food, Ron voicing the common opinion. "If he wants to spend the first day of class sleeping off the gossip, far be it for us to stop him. Especially after his fit last night, I mean, getting up in the middle of the feast and walking out? Just because one of the First years asked him if he was The Harry Potter?" Curly hair bouncing as she nods in agreement the muggle born witch chews on a piece of toast.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Across the Hall from the two-thirds of the Trio I frown at the lack of concern for the golden Gryffindor. Sipping my orange juice I tilt my head to the side. Wonder where Potter is? Oversleeping? Why should I care? Snorting to myself I leer at a fellow Slytherin and mutter, "Looks like the prized Gryffindor can't get out of bed."

"Aren't you on suddenly good terms with that one?"

"Potter? Not at all, we just have an agreement currently." Right, an agreement that makes you worry about that blasted hero and don't try to kid yourself, you've been jealous of the Weasel for gaining his friendship before you could. Bad enough that Father is pushing you to befriend him, but to lose him to a Weasley and a mudblood was infuriating. Now though, maybe I understand him a bit more. Before he walked into Diagon alley six years ago he knew nothing of our world, the world he was the savior of. You on the other hand have been raised in a pureblood family with anything you could possibly ever want at your fingertips. Funny how a few years of observation and a short summer spent in thought can show you sides you've never seen.

"What kind of agreement? He 'saves' the world and gives you the credit?"

"No."

"Or are the two of you secretly in love? Finally give in to your passion for the Boy-Who-Lived Draco?"

"Bed Potter? That's utterly disgusting," I drawl. Is it really? He's gotten quite good looking this past summer - NO! Bad mind mustn't think of him that way or I'll never be able to look at him straight.

Doors creaking open every head swivels towards the Halls' entry to find the Boy-Who-Lived with his head bowed. Feet guiding him through the doorway he pushes the doors shut and makes his way towards the Gryffindor table. Chin lifting as he nears his normal seat beside the other two of the golden trio he stares balefully at the Slytherin table. Normally shining eyes have a slightly dull cast to them. Beneath them are twin circles of darkness. Harry's hair was lying limply around his face, the shine gone from its strands. Stern protocol slamming up is all that keeps me from blanching and leaping up.

Sleeve hitching up as he swings his arm I catch sight of a concerning addition to his wardrobe, white tape. Lips cracked the savior of the Wizarding world slides onto the bench, his lost eyes turning away to drop to the table. Hunched up like he was afraid someone was going to hit him, the Gryffindor pokes at the food he dumps on his plate.

Salazar, don't those bloody Gryffindors notice anything? Why are they just sitting there chatting away, pretending he's been there the whole time? That glimpse of tape, I hate to admit it but I'm worried about that tape. I've got to corner him before Potions. Mind set I leave the table with a nod and stride across the Hall. Eyes watching my movements, the students of the other Houses turn quickly back to their food as I glare death at them. Annoying gossips. Nearing the Gryffindor table I smirk as the gits take notice in me. Took them long enough, you would think that the ruckus of the other students would peak their interest.

Clamoring to his feet one of them - Dean - plants his fists on his hips, "What do you think you're doing Malfoy?"

Flashing a droll look at the Gryffindor I ignore the boy stepping around him. Aristocratic hand landing on Potter's shoulder I lean forward silver eyes softening as they meet a panic filled green gaze. "We need to talk Potter, I think you know why." Throat tensing as he swallows, the Gryffindor sets his fork down and starts to rise.

Grabbing his wrist the red headed Weasel growls, "Don't Harry, he just wants an excuse to gang up on you with his goonies."

Teeth clenched Harry hisses in pain as he jerks free of the hold, stumbling backwards over the bench. Acting on instinct I move to stop his tumble, carefully avoiding his arms from the elbow down. Voice laden with weariness the golden boy shakes his head, "I'll see you in Potions."

Releasing his figure I follow him from the Hall. "Potter - "

Dull eyes peering over his shoulder he shakes his head again, "Wait."

Mouth curling in distaste I grab hold of narrow shoulders and shake him. "Don't you wait me Potter, I saw what you have under your sleeves and I demand you tell me." Shoving the white faced young man against a wall I level his refusals with a single look. "No, I will not let you worm your way out of this one wonder boy, something's wr - bothering you and I want to know."

Hissing at me, Harry struggles against my hold. "Why? Why do you care?"

Echoing his hiss I seize hold of his left wrist. Pain darkening Potter's eyes he stops fighting as the arm is lifted. Pushing cloth off of it to bare the tape covered forearms I frown, "Why?"

He was livid as I demanded he tell me why, his dull eyes flaring with the anger I had taken as an everyday occurrence between us greeting my demands. Dropping his bandaged arm I grab for his other, only to find that it too was covered in tape. "Why Potter?" And oddly enough I did want to know why. I wanted to help him through his troubles like the friend I could have been to him six years ago. Why was I suddenly developing this soft side for my one time enemy?

"Because," he snarls.

"Bloody hell Pot- Harry why won't you tell me?"

Flashing eyes meeting my own silver gaze he sneers, "Why should the Prince of Slytherin care when my own Housemates notice nothing?"

I could feel my own anger rising at that. Goddamn that boy, he was going to unravel me right here in the middle of the hall. Hand moving on its own accord I capture his chin and hold his eyes level with mine. "Do not think for a moment that I - damn you, how can you always get under my skin?"

"Talent," he retorts, my lips twitching in an effort not to grin. He really wasn't that bad, not too much of that annoying Gryffindor flavor. Almost like he had some Slytherin in him that he was afraid to let out unless provoked.

Unclench my fingers from his chin I step back, "I admit it, I am worried about you idiot. Now will you tell me?"

Muscles shifting with ease he shrugs. "Dunno, tired, lost, the whole bit, life isn't what it seems D-draco."

Heart dancing against my ribs I feel a shiver race across my sleeve covered arms. Ignore the screeching voice in the back of my mind as I tug the sleeve of my own shirt up, baring the delicate skin of my inner arm. Lips parting he leans forward, a single finger tracing the path of a scar. "We're not so different after all," I whisper.

Whirling as the Weasel shouts his name he scuttles back against the wall. Mouth opening and closing a few times he darts closer to me as they near us. Chest pressed to mine he bends his mouth to my ear, "Please, don't tell them Draco. They'd think I was doing it for attention."

Lifting my own mouth to his ear I whisper, "Tell me how you started and you have my promise."

"Bloody manipulating Slytherin."

"Damn straight."

"Harry! What are you doing?"

"Harry, mate, what in the world?"

Clasping my hand he nods, our bodies still pressed close. He really was quite good looking - arg, why did they have to mention that this morning?

"My word as a Slytherin Wonder Boy." Eye twitching he gives me a nasty look. Heart thudding against my ribs I catch his eyes. What was going on?

"Harry?"

Tongue wetting his lips he frowns as they break into a run. Trailing fingers through my unbound hair he chuckles, "Nice look ferret, grow it a bit longer and I'm sure the girls would love to braid it for you."

Shift my hips against his I smirk and tug at his own mop, "You trying to beat Professor Snape out with yours Wonder Boy?" Breath hitching he growls and dips his mouth to my ear.

"Eager to see me Drakie?" Teeth nipping my earlobe he dances back out of my reach as I flush.

"Oh go run off with the other part of the golden trio Potter, I'll see you in Potions." Giving me a saucy wink he takes the other two by the hands and drags the forcefully in the direction of the dungeons.

What was happening to me?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

What had I been thinking, letting Malfoy persuade me to tell him? He was going to think I was a loon. And why in the world was I actually looking forward to spilling my guts to that arrogant, self-centered, Slytherin prat? Deftly slicing the root before me into the prescribed length and width I watch my cauldron as it bubbles. Simmer for five minutes before adding four grams of the sliced roots. Than stir counter clockwise ten times. Clockwise for five stirs. Back to simmering and brooding.

Snape was prowling the classroom, looking for any reason to take points from us, and to compliment the Slytherins. Glowering at me as he strides past my potion he steps onto his platform. "Reduce your heat to a minimal flame and add the oil to finish the potion." He was a prickly bastard. Wonder if he ever let anyone under that snarling exterior? Maybe Malfoy would know, after all he was Snape's pet Slytherin. Manage to hold in my snicker, Snape would love to take points for 'disrupting' his class.

Watching my potion cool and slowly change from its mucky yellow color to a cheerful blue I grin. Gotcha. Ladling it into a bottle I cork it and take it up to Snape's desk, setting it along side 'Mione's as Malfoy brings his up. "Amazing Potter, you got it right," his silken voice purrs as he flashes me a hidden wink. Rolling my eyes skyward I return to clean my cauldron as Ron's potion goes up in flames and sparks. Snicker escaping my throat along with the whole of the Slytherin half and most of the Gryffindors I share a laughing look with Draco.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, now clean that mess up Weasley."

Ouch. Eyes darkening I finish scrubbing my cauldron and return it to its place. Damn Snape, if it weren't for the fact that we Gryffindors did well in all our other classes we would never have a chance of winning the House cup. He hated us and after what I glimpsed in his pensive I can't say I blamed him for that hatred. Sighing I drag a hand through my snarled mess of hair. Look at me now, sympathizing with Snape, head of Slytherin House.

_S'ok ducky, true friends will understand you've grown up._

Rising as he dismisses the class I stiffen as fingers brush my elbow, "Thinking much?" Uttering a grunt of agreement I allow the Slytherin at my side to guide me towards our next class. "What do you suppose Sprout will have us doing today? I hope it's not replanting anymore mandrakes, those things are nasty."

"Useful though."

"True. What do you have after Herbology?"

"Divination."

"Can you skip?"

"Maybe, after all, all Trelawny does is predict my death in varyingly spectacular ways. Kind of hate to abandon Ron though."

Reach the greenhouse and feel another feather touch of fingers as he snorts, "Think on it, I've got nothing between this and lunch." Blending back in with his Slytherins he slips right back into his bored mask.

And you know what? He wasn't all that bad once you got past that proud front of a Malfoy pureblood.


	5. Can't Believe

14 March 2007 - brief changes to this chapter to better set up the next one, which I am working on right now!

Author Diddy: Okies, it's been a while since this piece was updated, much less posted, but since I'm now going through and rewriting it so the plotholes don't eat me I decided to repost it. Written under the alias Kalinx previously, I present to you the rewritten Switchblade Symphony.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter it would not be a childrens book...much love and adoration to JK, the mother of this masterpiece.

Warning: The following fanfic will contain references to death, suicide, self-mutalation, sex (SLASH, boy on boy action), rape, confusing ideas, and language. If I've forgotten anything, please let me know...

_the voice _

Switchblade Symphony 

Four

Can't Believe

Water flowing over my dirt encrusted knuckles I start as a pair of fingers brush the nape of my neck. Silver looking up into emerald I can't help but smile softly, who would have thought that just finding Potter near me would make me smile? Scooting a bit to the side I turn my eyes back to my hands as a second pair join them under the cascade. Voice low he scrubs soap into dirt filled cuticles, "All right, I'll skip, but we have to get out of here before they notice me leaving." Gaze finding my bag I wave a wet hand at it. Understanding in his nod, Harry dries his partially cleaned hands and scoops it up.

There was still dirt on my hands. Sighing I dry them quickly and grab Harry's free hand. Firm pressure of his fingers with mine as we flit through the rest of the Herbology class. Across the greenhouse the muggle born raises the alert as his head ducks through the doorway. Moving into an easy run I actually laugh as he sprints ahead of me. One foot in the air he twirls and giggles as the Gryffindor 'police' catches sight of our silhouettes in the distance. Quirking a brow in the direction of the 'police' I follow him into a small stand of trees. "How do you plan to evade the police Potter? More talent?"

"Naw, blood." Freeze, lips tightening, I stare at him as he pulls an invisibility cloak out of his bag with a flourish. "Courtesy of my father we shall disappear and be able to walk right under their noses."

Potter senior had an invisibility cloak? Not really all that amazing, considering what both my father and my godfather have told me of him, but how did Harry get his hands on it? Sharp tug of fingers at my elbow. Ask him later, right now it was time to pretend my errant mind was not trying to convince me that the golden Gryffindor would make a tasty snack. Whisper of the cloak over my head as he and I crowd as closely together as possible.

"Slytherin end of the Quidditch pitch?" Uttering an agreement I slip an arm around his waist - to keep me from walking the wrong way. Sure Malfoy, you keep telling yourself those nice little lies and believing them.

They were heading directly at us as we began our trek towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Harry? Harry!"

"Harry mate, where'd you go?"

"Come on Harry, we saw you run off with someone."

"Harry!"

Chuckles held tightly in our throats we skirt around the edges of their scouting group.

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP****DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

Cloak slipping down around our two pairs of shoes I turn a brilliant grin on the blond. An identical grin lighting his face he flops onto a bench, his hands outstretched in my direction. Slight frown marring my forehead I whisper, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Confusion in his eyes he glances away, hands falling to his thighs. "I - I really do not know why Harry. It's almost as if some part of me recognizes you as someone I can show the truth to without having to worry about the repercussions. As though the past five years have been a mistake, a bump in the grand scheme of things, and we were meant to become friends First Year but something got in the way." Hands reaching back towards me he gives me a tremulous smile, "I feel like I'm trying to make up for lost time, if that makes any sort of sense."

_He's telling' the truth ducky, an' you know you feel the same way right now._

Returning his smile I twine my fingers with his, sliding down to sit between his knees. Cheek resting against his thigh I giggle as the absurdity of the matter pops into my head. Here I was, Golden Gryffindor, Boy-Who-Lived sitting between the Prince of Slytherin's legs after we had worked together to dodge the rest of the Gryffindors. Tilting my chin up I peer beneath sloppy bangs, "This is just so different, you know? It isn't that I doubt your actions; how can I when I feel the same way about our companionship? I just haven't had a very trusting upbringing and sometimes those memories get in the way of what I know I should believe."

Soft caress of his fingers against my cheek. "Will you tell me?"

Dropping my eyes I snake an arm around his hips and burrow closer to his body. I really did feel comfortable being alone with him. Breath whistling between my lips I clutch at the robes against his hip. "It's always been bad at my Aunt and Uncle's house, they're muggles you understand? They hate us - the Wizarding world - always have, think we're freaks of nature. Had hated my parents before they were married. I think they really hate the whole inferiority of it. I mean, my parents, these freaks, could make things happen with a wave of a hand and a few funny words, and they, the _upstanding_ muggles that they are, couldn't.

"Then they got saddled with me. Must've felt gratified that their hatred was justified, the freaks got themselves blown up. I guess that justification was their sign to make my life a living hell. After all, I was the offspring of an unnatural union, no matter that I was part their blood. They wanted nothing to do with me.

"Until I met Hagrid I never had anyone I could call a friend, my cousin turned every child at our primary school away from me. Said I was a freak. Did you know I spent the first eleven years of my life living in a broom closet under the stairs? They didn't deem me to be a high enough life form to deserve an actual bedroom. The clothing I was 'given' were - are hand me downs from my cousin, I don't rate new clothes in their eyes. If my glasses broke, which they did, I taped them back together and hoped they would last.

"As soon as they found me old enough I began doing all of the housework. Gardening, cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, schoolwork, all of it was my responsibility. One mistake and I would go a week without food or sunlight. Vernon would lock me in my 'room' and Dudley would spend hours outside it laughing at me, calling me a freak.

"Around the time I turned ten my uncle got fed up with something I did - prolly forgot to butter the proper side of my cousin's toast - and he took me into the basement and slammed me into a wall. Before my letter the beatings or violence were limited to only a few times a month - after, well, that was their favorite way to punish me for being born the way I was. They let up for a bit after Mad-Eye threatened them, but only for a bit. Then it got worse.

"The cutting, it was - is a way to prove to myself that I'm real. For me to find that piece of me that they can't get. The only part I can keep from them. I started the summer after my first year here; but until this summer it wasn't that bad. I cut rarely, and lightly - now," shrug my shoulders loosely, "now, I find I need the release it brings more often."

Falling silent I close my eyes, unshed tears burning against my eyelids, waiting for the disgust to come from Malfoy.

Carding a hand through my hair he inquires, "And then when you came here, hoping it would be an escape, only to find out that we all knew more about 'you' then you did? Found out that who you were wasn't anything like what you were supposed to be like?"

"Mm, here I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, great defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There I'm freak, filth, and any number of other names. Never Harry Potter, just plain Harry - me."

"You came into our world knowing nothing, to find you had a reputation to live up to, and you haven't thrown a fit yet? Haven't demanded that they leave you be? Let you choose your own path?"

_I like him ducky, he's got the right idea 'bout you an' your livin' your own life._

Snort rudely in response to both comments, "Not quite, I gave old twinkle eyes a big chunk of my mind at the end of last year. Told him I was tired of being manipulated in his childish games. Should have seen his face, looked like his eyes were about to pop out. Until then I think he still saw me as poor, young Harry Potter, boy I saved from the pressures of growing up in the Wizarding world's public eye. Afterwards, I honestly don't know what he thinks of me right now, haven't made my 'traditional' pilgrimage to his office."

"Were you going to?" Look up into his face in question. "I can go with you - if you'd like that is - to you know, 'protect' you from his manipulative ways?"

Slight shrug of my shoulders, "Not sure, I'll drop you an owl if I decide to."

"Sounds good, wouldn't want Wonder Boy to go mad and command all the snakes to attack the Headmaster," he teases, ruffling my hair.

"Hey! You're messing my hair up!"

"Pift!" Pale arms twist around my shoulders as a chin settles against the top of my head. "As if it were possible to mess your hair up anymore than it already is Potty." Growl at him, impertinent Slytherin. "Say Harry?"

"Mm?"

"I don't know if this is too much to ask this early in our companionship, but might I use you as a sounding board for my own ranting without having to worry that they will end up in the castle's gossip chain?"

Wiggle a bit under his chin and tilt my own head up. Mouths inches apart I meet his eyes a blend of fear and hope within them. Darting forward I peck his cheek, "I'd be honored to have you rant and rave at me whenever you need to." Gracing me with a brilliant, pureblood perfect smile he tucks my head back under his chin. Blink. Wait, did I just kiss his cheek? What the - was I coming down with something? But it felt like the right thing to do at that split second. Wonder Boy indeed, more like Completely-Losing-His-Mind Boy. Or maybe, The-Boy-Who-Comforted-Malfoy. Snicker - oh crap, he might take that the wrong way. "Damn my mind, why can't I ever think without making myself laugh?"

Huff of a snort, "You're Wonder Boy, the ultimate in heroic Gryffindors."

"Does that explain everything?"

"Obviously."

"Gee thanks ferret."

"My pleasure, someone has to do it you know."

You know, with this truce it was a whole lot more fun to throw taunts and snips back and forth.

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP****DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

Why was I suddenly so comfortable around him? This was insane. I was sitting behind the Slytherin side of the pitch with Harry bloody Potter between my legs, his arms around my hips and my chin on his head. Gods, if anyone ever gets wind of this we are so dead. But the funny thing was, I had no problem with it. What I had told Harry in answer to his question was the way I really felt, odd as it was. Might as well make use of it and get some of this weight off of my chest.

"As a child I idolized my father. He was the best thing in the world to me. Everyday he would come into my room and wake me up with our serpent. When I was still young enough he'd even give me a, I think muggles call it a piggyback ride, down to the hall for breakfast. My earliest memories are of his voice telling me stories and the way the Wizarding world would be when I grew up.

"True, I was raised with the understanding that I was, and am, a Pureblood with the responsibilities of one. Knowing the need for me, as the only Malfoy child, to produce an heir to continue the line. But my childhood was relatively nice.

"There were some outbursts between my parents, Father shouting that she had taken away the love of his life. Mother would always counter that with a quirked brow, saying if he really felt it necessary, to invite said lover to the Manor for dinner. It was rather amusing to watch all the anger leave Father's face that quickly. He always got quiet after that.

"I think they were honestly glad, if not relieved, that the Dark Lord was out of the picture for the time. Things had not been going the way Father thought they would, and raising a child in that atmosphere was not something either wanted. Particularly if he was a member of the Dark Lord's First Rank.

"But then we started to hear rumors that You-Know-Who had come back right around the time I received my Hogwarts letter. Father, he changed after we heard the rumors. Became someone who held an ultimate hatred for anyone but the Purebloods willing to aid Him. Mother told me once, she thought I was sleeping, that this was the way he had acted before The Dark Lord vanished the night He killed your parents.

"Did you know he told me - no, ordered me to befriend you First year? I was so scared that Father would hate me for failing him so I set out to make your life miserable, hoping that my actions would save me from losing the one thing I feared losing most.

"Making you miserable helped a bit, but Father was still angry. I think he has this impression that I didn't befriend you out of spite towards Him. If I had to pick a moment in my past that brought on the cutting I would have to pick that summer after First year as the turning point.

"Father though, he was almost like I remembered him until Fourth year. Yes, he was a tad bit fanatical over you and the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing but he was still Father. Now - now he's loyal Death Eater to Him. Even my godfather cannot reason with him. They were lovers at our age, my godfather and Father. Godfather was the lover Father spoke of when he yelled at Mother That's why Father named him my godfather. A desperate, love lost attempt to keep him close to himself. I'm not sure what happened to separate the two of them, according to Mother they were like soul mates until her marriage to Father.

"So I'm trapped dancing different steps for each person, much like you and the Boy-Who-Lived persona. The loyal, ever obedient son whose only goal is to spite Wonder Boy. Sneering Slytherin Prince to the House and my godfather. And now, now ranting chap to Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Lives-Miserable, Harry Potter. Wonder what my godfather would say if he found out about that last one? Any ideas Harry?"

Squirming under my chin he stokes my jaw and smiles, "Maybe if I knew who he was I could make a better guess? Mi-mine would have had a fit if h-he could see this." His eyes were dark with sorrow at that.

"Harry? You have a godfather?"

"Naw, h-had one." Slow, shuddering breath as a tear slips down his face. "He d-di-died last year."

Dammit, I had not meant to upset him with my curiosity. Shoving off the bench I drag him into my lap, a hand on the back of his head. "Salazar, I'm sorry I even spoke of it." Tears coursing out of his eyes he buries his face against my shoulder, a muffled apology for his tears making me frown. Why would he be apologizing for his own tears? For grieving for someone who must have meant a lot to him? "Sh, sh, I've got you, just let yourself cry. There is nothing wrong with mourning a loss in this manner. No one's going to laugh or gossip about this. I'll kill anyone who tries. That's my promise to you; anyone who dares strike at this wound will die by my wand or my bare hands. I promise you Harry."

"Even me Malfoy?" a molten voice inquires from behind us.

Bloody hell, I hadn't heard him arrive, no matter. Cradling Harry's shaking form in my arms I lift my eyes to the pure black of my godfather's. He was standing, arms crossed over his chest, the customary scowl locked in place. In my arms Harry was going dead still as the voice struck a familiar cord. Fury burning my voice I hiss, "Even you Sev, even you." Turn back to the boy frozen in hatred and fear, soft croon of words in his ear. "Sh Harry, I promised you remember? No one, not even my godfather, will hurt you with the loss of your own godfather."

"Draco, have you any idea what his godfather was?" There was a cold anger in Sev's question, an anger born for years if I'm not missing my guess. "His godfather was a mangy, good for nothing -"

Snarl and tighten my hold on the now furious Gryffindor, "I don't bloody care who he is or was! I gave my promise and I will damn well keep to it!"

Tearing himself from my embrace Harry grabs at his wand, hissing and spitting searing sounding words at my godfather in Parseltongue . White knuckled fingers grip his wand as he snarls, "You bastard! I swore I wouldn't take any more of your hated remarks over him! I don't care what he did to you when you were kids, he was all I had! All I had, do you understand that? There is nothing, absolutely nothing you can take from me anymore! I have nothing! I am nothing!"

Leaping to his feet he levels his wand at my godfather's heart, eyes sparking with lightning. "You can take all the bloody points you want Snape, I don't care! I have nothing to gain from winning or losing the House Cup! Take my broom, keep me from playing Quidditch, for Godric's sake, fucking throw one of the Unforgivables at me! But never, NEVER insult Siri again or so help me, I will do to you what Voldemort did to my parents!"

Heart stopping at his proclamation I watch as his wand slips from numb fingers and he crumbles to the grass. Fists pounding at the dirt he screams and sobs, great soul tearing bursts of pain. Jaw slack Sev stares at him. Serves him right, he knew who Harry's godfather was and he used it to hurt him. Folding to his side Harry pulls his knees to his chest.

"Oh god why does it still hurt so much? How can you still do this to me Siri? Siri?" Hiccupping he whimpers. "Siri - Siri - Siri - "

Siri? Could he mean Sirius Black? Was he Harry's godfather? But he betrayed his parents, didn't he? Hand brushing my shoulder hesitantly my godfather slips to his knees beside me, his scowl replaced with subtle concern backed by an unnamable emotion. "Draco, why does Potter have those bandages on his wrists?"

Laugh strangling out from between hiccups and sobs Harry hisses, "Why do you think almighty Potions Master? Heard of a razorblade before?" He was going to make himself sick if he kept this up. Crawling to him I lay my head on his chest. Fingers move to tangle in my hair as he chokes another bitter laugh out at Sev's expression. "Godric's sake Snape," tearing the gauze off his right wrist he bares the fresh, ugly dark red carvings, "That's why. Fancy the looks I'd be getting without the bandages?"

Shifting over one of his legs I curl my fingers against his neck, my body draped over his from his thighs to the bottom of his ribcage. "Harry, I can feel your ribs against my cheek."

"Yeah, Dursley's fault. Can't eat much when you're locked in your room with the window barred and boarded over."

Lifting my lip I snarl, "If I ever see them they are dead without question."

Stomach bouncing with a laugh - one that's not filled with bitterness - he mutters, "Did I mention I 'accidentally' turned my Aunt into a huge, inflated muggle right before Third year?"

"You did what?"

"Cast a spell on her that managed to blow her up into a big, hot air filled blimp."

"Did not!"

"Too, ask the silent Professor. Incidentally, I think I shook him up a bit much with that display."

Eyes lit by a frightening expression Sev blinks rapidly. Coughing to clear his throat my godfather inquires dryly, "You two are aware that this looks ridiculously bad to anyone who happens to pop in? Seriously, Draco, could you drape yourself over him anymore?"

Scooting up so my hips rest on his thighs I press a kiss to the junction of his throat and jaw. "We could be stark nude Sev, think on that one."

Hacking my godfather, his Potions Master, glares at us, as he turns slightly purple.

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP****DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

Watch as my godson rewraps Potter's arms, a silent witness to how far he has fallen. _Merlin, he's just like me, drawn to comfort of the blade._ Chest hurting at the wash of memories revived by the sight of fresh lines I lift my fingers, tangling them in my hair. What am I going to do? Dumbledore cannot know of this side to hid Golden Boy, and Potter - if he's anything like me, he won't want a whisper of this outside of conversations he invites. Haunted thoughts dancing in my mind I frown as Potter lifts one of my godson's wrists to his lips, pressing a kiss to the fragile skin. _Draco? Not you too? May the Dark Lord shoot me down if your father ever learns of this. My poor godson, every time I look at you I can't help but see your father reflected in you._ Releasing my hair I keep my gaze vacant as his silver eyes lift to stare at me, fright softening as he catches sight of my thumb running back and forth over my right forearm.


	6. It's All Inside

Author Diddy: Well, here's the next, newly revised chapter of this. I'm beginning to remember why I hated revising essays for school - don't worry, I'm not going to drop this fic anytime soon, it's my baby! Erm, not much has really changed between the two versions yet, just ading a few sentances here and there to make the direction it takes more feasible.

Disclaimer: Would I be working for a bookstore if I owned Harry Potter? I think not!

Warning: The following fanfic will contain references to death, suicide, self-mutalation, sex (SLASH, boy on boy action), rape, confusing ideas, and language. If I've forgotten anything, please let me know...

_the voice  
_  
Switchblade Symphony

Five

It's All Inside

The screaming was everywhere. Voices raised in pain and triumph. Sick, sadistic joy and tearing horror. Flash of white blond hair and gray eyes. Snake topped cane clattering to the floor. Blond hair stained with the black lifeblood. Torn bodice and pale skin bared. Terrible cries of loss and pain. A woman was dead. A husband mourned his wife's death. Never that close, but to see her destroyed - he was sobbing. Limbs contorting under the cruciatus curse. Slender throat offered up in a sick parody. Pain.

Too much pain.

Realities were beginning to blur together.

Muscles shrieking in pain I howl in pain as my vision swims with spots of light and dark. Clawing at the curtains around my bed I stagger a few steps before crumbling. The hated scar was nearly sizzling. Flicker of a tear streaked face. Red hair intruding on the blond. Cruel smile ghosting over concerned young male faces. Breath coming in harsh pants. Spasm of pain. Another round of the cruciatus begins. Malfoy. Ron? It was too much.

Cold stone beneath my knees warred with slick, warm stone under a bowed spine. Curls matted with blood. Pale skin of a lady. Laughing jeers. Faces entertained by the torment of one that was thought to be theirs. _Thought? Had He finally snapped His greatest follower? Why was He doing this?_

Haul myself to my feet as the flow of cruciatus pauses. Draco, I have to tell him. "Draco - Dumbledore - Voldemort - Cruciatus." Was that my voice gasping? Struggle free of restraining hands, cries of surprise as fingers and movement bare my wrists. Had I undone the bandages that Draco had so carefully applied before going to sleep? Yes, no, don't care. Draco.

I was stumbling down the stairs, bare feet stubbing every possible crack. Slam my shoulder against the archway as the third round of cruciatus hits us both. I have to get through this, they'll find out soon enough. Draco has to hear it from me. Narcissa, dead.

_Oh gods._

_Ducky! What's hurtin' you so?_

Halls melt together into a shapeless landscape of pain and shadow. Were Ron and the others still following me? Burst of stars as I plow head first into a wall echoing the next cruciatus. If I live through this remind me to hate that curse. Worse than Avada Kedavara. Didn't just kill you in a jolt of extreme pain. Prolonged pain. Madness. Oh Godric the pain.

The stones beneath my feet - not his body - were getting colder. Close, so close. Just a bit further.

"Harry, hey Harry, you can't go down there. That's Slytherin's dungeons."

Still there then. Bully for them. Palms strike a warm, yielding body. Blood was making the floor sticky. Funny, I never knew that a whole lot of blood made things sticky. Coarse clothe beneath my fingers. Blink and manage to make out a stern, ebon-eyed face. Snape. Godfather. It was beginning again. Shudder and scream with the pain, giving in to the inevitable, the blond man in my vision doing the same. _Please, let me pass out._

_What's happenin' ducky? Tell me!_

Evil glower falling into an expression of concern. "Potter? Potter, what is wrong?"

"Get your hands off him you slimy git!"

Ah Ron, if I weren't busy shrieking from the pain of the cruciatus he would love to take points for that one.

"Weasley! Watch your tongue, I am still your professor no matter what time you meet me."

It was fading, was he done? Dare we - I hope that much? Another glimpse of blond curls and blood stained skin - thighs, she'd been raped before they killed her. Godric, he'd been forced to watch it all. Grab fists full of Snape's sleeping robe, "Draco, take me to Draco -" not another one - "p-please - gods the pain - I have to tell him - he, I, we can't take much more - for Salazar's sake - just let us collapse you bastard - why aren't you there - Narcissa!"

Blur of shorter blond hair and startled silver eyes. Draco, you were here somehow. "Sev, what's wrong with Harry?" What indeed? Oh gods, He wasn't anywhere near done was He? Blood, curls, emerald green, and finally, blackness as he lapses into unconsciousness. "Harry? Wonder boy?"

Cling to the black robe as I lift tear reddened eyes to confused silver. "Godric I am so sorry, so sorry." Sobs choking out my words I slide to the stones and huddle in on myself. Behind me was the flock of Gryffindors, willing to follow me in the dead of night. In front of me, two Slytherins, godfather and godson. Malfoy and Snape. Lift my chin and stifle the sobs, "She's dead Drake, she's dead - He killed her. I'm so sorry. I - I should have done something."

Knowledge floods his eyes as he goes white. "Mo-mother," he whispers brokenly, the betrayal and loss throbbing. Forget that the Gryffindors stand there. He was on his knees, tears running down his marble skin, nails digging into his palms. "And Father? Please - is he alright?"

I was shaking with aftershocks. Little, bone jarring ripples of ghost pain. "He, we blanked out from the pain - cruciatus curse, over and over again. We're, he's sorry he couldn't protect her. Alive yes, but scarred. If we can find him he might make some sort of recovery. Don't know why He attacked us. No warning. Where we are, I don't know. Lost the link when he went under. The pain, Salazar the pain. Sorry, should have been able to protect her."

Harry, I am Harry Potter. Skinny little runt of a child. Raised by muggles. Hated by said muggles. I am a pureblood wizard. Head of the Malfoy line. Green eyes and a lightning shaped scar. Slytherin.

Lights were - are flashing in front of me. Headlights, there are cars in our vision. Screech of tires as we list to the side. Glimpse of a familiar street sign. "Privet Drive, Vol-He dumped us near the Dursley's house." No, that wasn't right. We were staggering into their front yard. "Oh gods, we're in their yard!"

Flare of power along my veins. More pain and a whispering, singsong voice. **_:Save him yes, go to him.: _** My toes were getting wet. I was standing in grass? Privet Drive. How did I get here? Lift my eyes from my feet, a weary, half dead, blood-covered blur of a figure staring at me.

"Lucius, you know me, trust me." Godric, I know I must look horrid; my skin is blanched white, angry red lines dancing down my inner wrists. I left my glasses at my bedside, my hair is a wreck, and I'm expecting a Malfoy to trust me? "Please Lucius, for Draco's sake trust me. He needs you more then he ever has."

Behind him the front door was opening. Godric, however I got here I've got to get out of here before they see me. "Please Lucius." There's panic and fear slipping into my voice. If they see me I'm in for it, Lucius isn't anywhere near able to 'defend' me. "Lucius, please, I know I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and a half blood to top that, but please, we have to get out of here. Th-they won't be happy to see me."

"BOY!" Salazar, he saw me.

Whimper and hold my hands out to the dazed Malfoy. "Lucius! Dear gods Lucius trust me!"

He was coming for me, Lucius was frozen, ah it was hopeless.

_What the fuck is going on ducky?!_

"Boy, what do you think you're doing here? I told you that I didn't want to see you until you got out of that blasted freak shop you call a school!" A meaty fist rises to swing at my jaw. "And you better not have brought one of those freaks here!" Brace my fists by my side as he swings and you know what? Flying wasn't all that difficult if you had someone to 'help' you along.

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

As much as I loathed leaving my godson without me to comfort him - who knows what he will do to sooth the pain while I am gone - I will admit that Albus may have a point in saying that Lucius will come with us more quickly if he sees me. If he still trusted me. Please let him still be willing to trust me, after all I put him through after learning of his wedding to Narcissa.

Striding alongside Albus' side I inquire, "Where is it that we are going Albus?"

"Privet Drive my dear boy, home of Harry Potter's muggle relatives."

Ah. So why were we apparating there? Wasn't that going to look odd to the poor muggles? Poor? Hm, I shall re-evaluate that thought after this is all taken care of.

Brief pop and the sight of young Potter soaring boneless through the air greets me. Landing without a sound he blinks jaded eyes at the sky and heaves himself to his feet. Frozen in the middle of the sculpted lawn is my - Lucius. Heart aching at the sight of his battered body I hiss. Chin held high Potter shuffles back towards the huge, disgusting, cow of a man. Hands held out towards Lucius he begs for him to trust him. The man was raising his beefy fist again. I may not like Potter, but I'll be damned twice over if I'm going to allow that muggle to lay another finger on him - after all, Draco would never forgive me.

Robes billowing behind me I flick my wand at the man with a softly uttered spell. Tangled in a full body bind he boggles at me. Wand free hand stretching for Lucius I croon, "Lucius, Draco needs his father."

"Please trust us Lucius."

There was a flicker of recognition beginning in those haunted eyes. Slipping my wand back into its pocket I hold both hands out to him, my arms open. "Luc, it's Sev, please Luc, Draco's hurting." He was leaning. Closing my eyes I whisper, "Luc, I need you. I'm sorry. Please let us help you." Voice cracking I grunt as he hurls himself into my arms.

His whole body was shaking with repressed pain and sorrow. Every muscle tense, fingers clutching at me as though I were his only lifeline to the world. Tangling a hand in his hair I murmur a soothing litany of nonsense, black eyes meeting green. Feet guiding him to us, the 'savior' of our world leans his cheek against Lucius' stiff back. "I know what you saw Mr. Malfoy - I felt everything they did to both of you."

He what? Potter felt both Luc's pain and Narcissa's? Did he feel her die? Merlin, if he had - the blade's song might be too strong to resist if he was left alone. Mental note not to leave Potter alone for a while.

Breaking his grip on my robes Luc turns in a flare of white-blond and black. "You - felt it all?" Short nod of his head, flyaway black mop straggling into glazed eyes. "I - I - " Weary smile curling his mouth Potter shrugs and collapses into a dead faint. Wide, terrified eyes jerk back to mine, "Sev? Is he - does he do that often?"

Unable to stop the quirk at the corner of my mouth I gently drape an arm around his shoulders, tugging his body tight against mine. It felt too good to have him back in my arms, responding even a little to my touch. "He does seem to spend more time in the hospital wing than any of the other students combined, so I'd have to say yes."

Jowls trembling with rage the muggle in my bind spits, "That boy is mine."

Quirking a brow at him Albus steps around Potter's fallen form. "Actually Vernon, as of the moment he stepped onto the train for his next term, he is mine."

"The brat's my nephew! What right do you have to him?"

"Harry may be your nephew by blood Vernon, however, he is the savior for our world by deed." Blue eyes glinting darkly Albus steps close to the muggle, "And I will have it known that after observing these past few moments, I hereby renounce all claims I gave you sixteen years ago. Harry Potter is no longer of your concern, he belongs to the wizarding world now."

"Not mine?! I have done nothing to him that he hasn't deserved!"

Lifting my free hand to rub at my temple I frown, this muggle was a clinger. The only way we were going to get Potter away from him was to kidnap the boy. Frown deepening I hiss, "Since when did this all become a we?"

"Sev?" Confused gray eyes blinking at me. Salazar, I said that out loud.

Slight smile, "Don't worry Luc, just muttering to myself."

Flicking his wand at Potter Albus turns to regard Luc and I with a raised brow. "Well, we had best return to Hogwarts, Madame Pomfrey will be wanting to see both of her patients and you have classes to teach Severus."

He was right again, damned old man. Levitating Potter's body he nods, "I trust you can bring Lucius back without any difficulty?" Glancing at Luc's down turned head I nod. "Very good my boy, I shall see you in the hospital wing soon." Vanishing with a soft pop he takes Potter with him.

"I suppose I have to release the muggle, might get hit by Aurors if I don't. All that gibberish about revealing our world and such. Or maybe uncalled for cruelty to a Lesser being?" Twist of my wrist to release that disgusting pig. "Although I personally think it to be entirely just to leave him tied up like that, don't you Luc?" Sparing the pig a malice coated smile I apparate the two of us to the edges of Hogwarts. Mouth turning downwards at a stray thought I murmur, "How in the world did Potter apparate from within Hogwarts?"

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

If I have to dodge one more inquisitive Gryffindor I swear I shall send all the warnings to the depths of hell! Sev had warned me that the Gryffindors had an uncanny knack for popping up where you least expected them. They also seemed to gather knowledge of things they were not meant to know rather well he had growled. His last bits of advice before he left my corner of the hospital wing with Draco in tow, a bleak light in his eyes, left me slightly confused. He had managed to dredge a promise out of me, a promise that I would not leave Potter to his own devices; and that I was not to make Potter angry by mentioning Sirius Black.

Curious parting words, which leads me to my current seat by Potter's bedside. He had not woken yet, but for the past few minutes he had been twitching. I guess I felt I owed him some sort of thanks for bringing Albus, and Sev, to me. And for telling Draco; from what my son had been willing to tell me about their sudden truce, I felt it was right for him to be the one to break the news to my child.

Emerald eyes flying open the boy whimpers, "Let it alone you bastard, I've got him and you're not going to get your filthy claws in him anytime soon."

Coughing softly I quirk a sculpted brow at him, "Talking to yourself Potter?"

Raking fingers through his hair he rolls his eyes, "Bloody hell, stop sounding just like the two of them, only one of them has your blood."

"Two of them?"

"Snape and Mal-Draco, they both have said the same thing to me," curious look at my attire, "in the same tone."

Shrug and set my book down on a handy table. "Madame Pomfrey told me sternly that while I was in her care I would not be allowed to prance about like a dandy."

"Ah." He was laughing at me, albeit silently, but laughing none the less.

"Potter? I feel I owe you a lot of gratitude, not only for bringing Sev and Albus to 'rescue' me earlier - in a round about manner - but also for being the one to tell Draco. I don't think Sev or I could have done it, and Albus - well, you know his ways as well as I do I suppose."

Flash of bitter fury in those young-yet-old eyes, "I suppose I do."

He was drifting into a deep place, one far away from me and the present reality. Pomfrey had reinforced Sev's words, telling me that if he woke up, to keep him talking and not retreating until she could get someone here to talk to him. But what to ask to keep him talking? Ah, maybe I can figure out the Gryffindor secret for knowledge. "Say Potter? How is it that you Gryffindors always know more then you should?"

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

Blink slowly, dragging my mind away from the lilting song of blood, elder Malfoy's voice breaking the silence. The voice hadn't spoken to me since last night - hope it's alright, where ever and whatever it is. Question making me blink again I feel the beginnings of a smirk twitching on my lips.

So he thought that I would just spill the words right into his lap? Silly pureblood, you weren't counting on a side of Slytherin cunning along with that Gryffindor bravery were you? "Come now Lucius, do you really expect me to yap our trade secrets without a fight or a very tempting bribe?" Since when has he become Lucius and not Mr. Malfoy?

"Bribe? Not very Gryffindor of you Potter."

"Not all Gryffindor Lucius." Bloody hat.

"Oh?"

"Nu-uh Lucius, no secrets for you unless you have something I want." He doesn't seem to be against my use of his first name. Odd.

Sputtering he reaches for my throat. "Why you little prat!"

Waving a finger in front of him I tut, "Now now, wouldn't want to bring Pomfrey down on you for disabling the recovery of one of her patients."

"Insufferable boy, too much like your father and his merry little band."

Catch a flash of fright in his gaze as my throat closes, a black hole inside me linking him with Siri's death. Close my eyes, breath speeding up I shake my head harshly. "Leave me alone Siri! Why do you still haunt me?" Eyes snapping open I fix them on the startled visage of Malfoy senior, "You helped kill him you bastard. You helped kill the last part of my family! My family!" I was screaming at him now, my voice a swiftly rising shriek. "I'll bloody kill you! All of you! All of you damned Death Eaters and your stupid minions. All of you are dead!"

_Ducky! Calm down - pull yourself together!_

Wrenching my mouth shut I leap from the bed, bare feet striking the cool stones with a painful slap. Have to bring myself back down from this rage. Prowling away from the white faced Malfoy I hug my biceps. He was Draco's father and the only family he had left save Snape - can't hurt him any more than He already has. Yes he had been part of the scheme that night at the Ministry, but I couldn't kill him for that.

Why not? He had helped kill Siri, even if it was indirectly. And he was a known Death Eater. After the Ministry fiasco he'd been imprisoned at Azkaban. Could I kill him for that alone?

_No._

Echoing the voice's reply with a negative shake of my head I tear my pajama shirt off, nails of my right hand ripping the fresh scabs off the marks on my left wrist. I had to straighten myself out. Couldn't kill Malfoy. Couldn't bring any sort of attention down on him either. Draco was in class. Snape was teaching. Dumbledore could just keep his nosy, twinkling eyes out of this. None of the Gryffindors would agree with me, they'd tell me to kill him.

It wasn't enough. I needed something stronger to free me.

Calling in one of my trusty razorblades I continue my pacing. Laying the blade on my skin I sneer and drag it deftly from the edge of my palm to the curve of my elbow. Vanishing the blade I stare at the sudden rush of red as the anger dissipates. Oh gods, I hit the vein.

Shit.

Blood on the floor. Blond curls. Screams. Stars beginning to blossom behind my eyes. How could I hit the vein? Pressure of a pair of hands. Follow the slight direction of pressure back to the bed. Laughter bubbling hysterically from my mouth I flop back into the pillows. Gracing me with a Malfoy look Lucius swipes a damp clothe over the blood. Wrapping gauze and tape around my forearm he watches it for a few minutes before dropping back into his chair.

Eyes swimming with ghosts he mutters, "Don't do that Potter."

I was still laughing, laughter quickly turning into high-pitched giggles. Arms waving in the air I crow, "Why not Lucius? It's fun and it helps me feel." New injury burning a bit I flick my eyes down at it. The blood was seeping through the bandages and down to the point of my elbow. Mouth forming an 'o' I stare at the brilliant crimson streaks.

"Damn you Harry, don't be like Sev. He blames himself, in his own way, for the deaths of your parents. Says he shouldn't have let his hatred of James and S - get the better of him." Elegant hands gripping my shoulders he hauls me off the pillows.

Be like Sev? How could I be like Snape - unless! Gape at the walls, equilibrium shot with the fresh knowledge. Snape had cut when they were in school together. Does he still?

Settling himself behind me he curls his arms around my stomach, deftly undoing the tape and gauze. "I guess I blame myself too. I never really had anything against them, except for the teasing that hurt Sev, but still, if I hadn't been so wrapped up in His schemes for a better world I would not have stood by as He killed them both.

"As long as He kept my Draco and Narcissa safe from everything I was willing to follow Him into anything. I never really loved Narcissa, Sev was the one that mattered to me and she understood that, but she was the mother of my son. Before he was born I gave her a promise that I failed to keep yesterday. I promised her that the two of us would raise Draco as a family, that I would always protect her from harm - and I failed her."

Fingers rewinding the gauze and tape he rests his chin on the top of my head. "Draco wouldn't understand - "

"Harry!!??" Damn, or course it'd be Ron who was the first to sneak in. Catching Lucius' retreating hand I shake my head shortly.

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

My heart was pounding, those great shuddering kind. The kind that makes you think it's about to explode. Not ready for a confrontation. Calloused fingers tightening on my wrist Potter shakes his head as I go to retreat. No? But that blazing red hair belonged to one of his best friends, one Ronald Weasley if I'm not mistaken.

"Harry, what in blazes is wrong with you? First you turn around and are great chums with the ferret, then you wake up screaming and proceed to scramble for the dungeons, and now - now I come in to see you and find you practically sprawled in _that_ Death Eater's lap! Have you lost your bloody mind Harry? Is that why you didn't answer any of our owls over the summer? Did his death affect you that much? Damn you, why won't you talk to 'Mione and I?"

Boiling out of my lap Potter hisses something at the Weasley in what sounds like Parseltongue. "Talk? Talk to you and 'Mione when all you see is each other? How does one talk to you? Is it like talking to a wall, because that's what it bloody well feels like! Every time I try to talk to you the both or you tell me I'm over reacting. That I'm making things seem worse than they are!

"You want to know why I woke up screaming last night? Because Voldemort, stop flinching, was torturing people! You know I feel the pain of those He tortures! He put the cruciatus curse on one man six times in rapid succession! Did you expect me, the brave Gryffindor, Boy Who Lived, to just let Him do that without doing something? For Salazar's sake Ron, I can't not help people!"

"But a Malfoy? Two Malfoys? They're evil Harry. Death Eaters and servants of You Know Who!"

Shoulders slumping Potter turns his back to the Weasley and staggers back to the bed. "Go back to class Ron," he mutters as he collapses into my lap carelessly. He looks so tired, desperate for any sort of comfort that will not judge him in giving it.

"Harry?" pitiful whisper from the redhead.

"Lucius? You don't mind staying with me do you?"

Dropping my eyes from the Weasley boy I pet the back of his head, "Of course not -"

Cutting me off the red head snarls, "Fine Harry, if you want to spend more time with nasty Slytherins then with your friends, go ahead."

Twisting to glare at his friend Potter hisses, "Go. Back. To. Class. Ron."

"I'll go, but what would Sirius say about seeing you more willing to talk to a Slytherin then a Gryffindor?"

Bitter laughter barking out in the sudden silence Potter purrs, "He wouldn't say anything Ron, he's dead in case you forgot that little piece of information. Lestrange killed him, remember? In the Ministry? Yes?"

Palms up to fend off anymore words, the Weasley boy backs away from Potter. Eyes wide he whirls and flees from the wing. Shuddering Potter droops forward. "Potter? Are you unwell? Should I call Madame Pomfrey?"

Voice soft Potter shakes his head, "No, just tired that's all. Infernally tired of it all. Of the Boy Who Lived tripe, Vol-Him, Dumbledore, all of it. You know what I've always wanted?" Shifting into a more comfortable sprawl in my lap he sighs, "A real family, someone to pat me on the back when I did something right and good. A father who was proud to be there for me, ever when I did things badly. A mother to coddle me. Maybe a sibling to argue with over stupid things. A godfather like Draco's got. That's all I've ever wanted. Not this fame. Just a family - the one thing I'll never get to have."

Arms snaking around Potter's shoulders I pull him close. If I had been told a couple days ago that I would have Potter literally fall into my lap and that, instead of cursing him into oblivion, I would feel sorry for the boy I would have hexed them into St. Mungo's. Yet, here I was, arms around Potter, singing softly in an offer of some comfort to the Boy Who Lived.

**DMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHP**

"Honestly Luc, letting him fall asleep on you." Lips twitching I quirk a brow at the blonde's resigned face.

"I wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until you told me."

Pulling my hair back with a black ribbon I smirk, "And you were singing to him this entire time?"

"Yes - he seemed so lost, and don't dare give me that sneer of yours Sev."

Rising from my chair I settle down by Potter's knees, reaching a hand out to brush Luc's jaw. "I would never dream of doing such a thing. I was there when that pig of a muggle sent his nephew on an impromptu flying lesson. And - I hate to admit this, but I had Potter threaten me at wand point for insulting his godfather's memory. Luc, he isn't stable. Hasn't been since that night at the Ministry."

Carding pale fingers through Potter's unruly mass of hair he nods, a flicker of sorrow entering his eyes. "I know, I had the 'honor' of having that fact shoved down my throat earlier today. Do you know what he did Sev? What he has been doing - to feel?"

Memories flaring behind my closed eyelids I nod mutely.

_/flashback/_

_The steady growth of red along his arms was calming. Just watching that color force its way out of his pale skin made it feel right. Luc is going to kill me if he finds out - but to feel, to feel real and not like some ghost was worth the impending tongue lashing. Swiping fingers through the crimson I blink as strong arms twine around my hips. Damn, he was here, he knew. Tears were threatening at the corners of his eyes, gods don't let him hate me or leave me._

_"Sev, come to bed so I can wrap you up," he sounded so dead, so horribly empty. Does he hate me already? Has he always hated me? "Sev, love, let me get some bandages on your arms. We need to talk and having you pass out from blood loss will not be helpful."_

_"Talk?"_

_Manhandling me into his bed he growls at me as he pulls me into his lap. "Yes, talk my depressed lover."_

_"You don't - aren't going to leave me?"_

_Pausing in his bandaging he meets my eyes, "Never consider that to be an option Severus Snape, you hear? Never."_

_/flashback/_

Leaning close Luc whispers, "I meant it then, and I mean it now - no matter what you said all those years ago." Closing the distance between us I brush my lips over his. Gods how I'd missed simply being able to kiss him. Groaning from his position in Luc's lap Potter begins to wake. Smile quivering Luc tries to smooth Potter's hair down.

"It's not going to work Father, his hair defies any laws to stand out like that," Draco quips as he strides across the floor. Joining the three of us on the bed with a smirk he croons, "Hey Wonder Boy, rise and shine."

Emerald gaze blinking us into focus he stares at us in shock, "What are all of you doing here?"

Finger prodding his shoulder Luc gives him a look. "Well, you fell asleep in my lap so I was and am stuck, Sev came in to tease me over letting you fall asleep in my lap, and Draco just joined us to, I presume, do the same thing that Sev's been doing for the past ten minutes."

Making a face Draco holds up his hands, "Some of what Sev's been doing Father, some of what Sev's been doing. I don't much care to do what he was doing when I walked into the hospital wing."

Jaw dropping Luc stares at his son as I flush. "You little prat -"

Snicker coming from Potter I twist my glare to include him as well. "Were they doing what I assume they were doing Drake?"

"If by assuming you mean relearning the finer points of snogging, yes."

"We were not snogging!" Luc snarls.

Dissolving into snickers the two boys share a look. "Oh Lucius, I have missed you sooooo much these past years."

"Severus, let me make it up to you with my tongue."

"Lucius!"

"Mmmmmm, still the way I like you."

Cheeks a brilliant cherry red and burning with my embarrassment I lock eyes with Luc. The corner of his right eye was twitching as the boys continued their badly done rendition of us. Grabbing Draco by the shoulders I shove him none to gently into Potter's lap face first. Sneer threatening to break his scowl Luc begins to tickle Potter, jaw dropping as he discovers the boy to be highly ticklish.


End file.
